COSMIC PUNK: Real Life Time Machines deal in gobs of zonky alterna-pop bad-assery.

Real Life Time Machines are not insane morons. Having known them for almost two years, I can attest that they are kindhearted gentlemen of integrity and patriotism whose knowledge of popular music is matched only by their passion for playing it. But I understand why some might think otherwise, especially anyone who’s had to clean up styrofoam peanuts, confetti, glitter, broken vacuum-cleaner parts, French fries, Hostess snacks, and God-knows-what after one of their shows.

I’ve done my part in spreading the misconception. When last I wrote about the mostly JP-based RLTMs, keyboardist Ben Izenson and drummer Chico Suave expounded on fetish porn and slaying ninjas, in flagrant disregard of my questions. Singer Eli Osheyack couldn’t fathom why he was being interviewed in the first place. The ordeal did have a silver lining: the term “cosmic punk,” which I coined to describe their sound, has since turned up in enough of their publicity for me to feel I’ve added something to the lexicon.

But nobody wants to read my made-up words, and though all four RLTMs often say rational things in real life, trying to get them to do so in print is a recipe for disaster. So I sought out alternative perspectives.

“I’ve seen people’s reactions at their shows, and some people are like, ‘I don’t even like this band, and I’m having a great time!’ ” says avid RLTMs devotee (and Campaign for Real-Timer) Michael Potvin, who produced and co-mixed RLTMs’ first-ever studio excursion at the Compound 440R space in Somerville. “The first B-52’s record was definitely an inspiration to me for working with these guys. It’s loose but dancy, y’know? The Time Machines have the same thing, where the song almost loses itself and [then] comes back in at just the right time. That looseness was what I wanted to capture on the record. It has this life that could easily be stripped out by a computer. We chose not to do that.”

The resulting as-of-yet untitled, barely 10-minute-long gob of zonky alterna-pop bad-assery is slated for release later this month on CD and vinyl, with different spiffy extras appearing on each edition.

Potvin is just one among the growing ranks of influential Boston music types disseminating the RLTMs. It’s getting to the point where they’re in danger of becoming trendy and alienating their “true” fans. Fans like one Jonathan Tierney, also of JP. Tierney first bonded with Osheyack when an assignment on lipids for their 10th-grade health class went straight to hell, almost getting them suspended from Hanover High School, in New Hampshire, which the rest of RLTMs also attended.

“We decided to make a video art piece, to go around asking people about fats and obesity,” Tierney explains. “Questions that were very unsubtle. Like: ‘When you’re around people fatter than you, how does that make you feel?’ ‘Are you scared of fat people?’ I think that was the question that got us in the most trouble.”

Some events are too stupid not to be prophetic.

“I read this interview with the Edge once,” Tierney goes on. “He said most people in bands were very insecure when they were younger and have this need to prove themselves and be sort of centers of gazing and discord. This film was definitely us being really insecure and wanting to make other people feel bad.”

Cellars by strobe light The ensuing batshit hysteria of this gathering was probably as close as one can realistically and safely get to a temporary autonomous zone.

Pop’s fairer image After the Fantasy Mirrors show at Great Scott last Thursday, singer Nathanael Bluhm wasn’t feeling so hot, and since he was already wearing pajamas, I offered him and his bike a lift home.

Nights on the town In last year’s “Circuits” year-end wrap-up, we heralded the reach of Boston out to the world at large. This year, things got pretty radical inside the Hub. We Are Cassette, "Angels We Have Heard on High" (mp3)

Intergalactic rock I didn’t really get the Campaign for Real-Time until some time after my lengthy interview with the band. Campaign for Real-Time, "In Your Dreams" (mp3)

Slay anything Boston's Irepress weren't supposed to be an instrumental band. What they've evolved into just happens to be too stylishly sinuous to lend itself to lots of words.

Group effort If you're inclined to play punk rock, chances are you've got a self-esteem problem. It's not an æsthetic that attracts the well-adjusted. Exhibit A: Mark Lind. As bassist and frontman of the Ducky Boys, he's opened for Rancid, U.S. Bombs, and Flogging Molly.

Sick sense We've been told there's no such thing as a new idea, but that may well be bullshit. The new ideas are out there, they just need bands like Bunnies to root them out.

HOW TO DESTROY ANGELS | WELCOME OBLIVION | March 13, 2013 Whereas the monsters and ghosts of NIN songs can scream in your face and rip you to bits with their fangs, Welcome Oblivion tracks like techno-folk haunter "Ice Age" and the doom-pop jaunt "How Long?" make uncredited cameo appearances in your nightmares until you go insane and eat your own hands.

JOHNNY MARR | THE MESSENGER | February 25, 2013 Going solo is rarely a good decision. For every exception to the rule of who flourishes after unburdening themselves of the half-talents that have been holding them back — Justin Timberlake, for one — there are dozens of embarrassing Dee Dee Ramone rap albums that exist because Joey and Johnny Ramone weren't around to kibosh a terrible idea.

WHAT'S F'N NEXT? BUKE AND GASE | January 29, 2013 Almost every person I've told about Buke and Gase assumes that they'll hate this band, which isn't their fault.

BLEEDING RAINBOW | YEAH RIGHT | January 23, 2013 The only defect of the sort-of-but-not-really debut from Bleeding Rainbow (no longer called Reading Rainbow, possibly due to litigious ire festering under LeVar Burton's genial television persona) is that the Philly foursome merely hop off the launching point forged by Sonic Youth, My Bloody Valentine, and a handful of others from the oft-exalted grunge era.